Don't Bleed on Me (A Mike Faraday, P.I. Mystery Book 6) by Basil Copper

Author:Basil Copper [Copper, Basil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing
Published: 2014-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven – Flak in the Afternoon

1

I put my fist into something soft. There was a strangled bellow. I dragged a portly form forward into the light. The lips were blue; I relaxed the grip of my hands round his throat.

‘For God’s sake hold it, Mr. Faraday, or I won’t be responsible,’ said Cardinal Bishop. I let go of him and he sagged against the wall, catching his breath.

‘Sorry about that, but it was understandable,’ I said mildly.

There came shouts and confused murmurs from the roof terrace I’d left.

‘We’d better blow,’ said Bishop thickly, adjusting his neck-tie. ‘I’ll explain later.’

It was about the first sensible thing he’d said since I’d met him. He took me by the arm and steered me down the alley. My Buick was parked at the end, facing away from the Park-Plaza. I fell behind the wheel as another prowl car siren joined the growing chorus behind us. I put the pistol in the dash and locked it. I opened the envelope. It was filled with blank sheets of notepaper. I smiled.

Head lamp dazzle fell across the entrance of the alley, passed on. I engaged the gear and we drew away from the building; I could see the police-car lights still converging as we turned the end of the block. I waited until we got well away before I spoke again; Bishop sat glumly, occasionally putting his hand to his throat. He licked his lips once or twice.

‘How come you got my car?’ I asked him at last.

He lit a cigarette before he replied. ‘I followed you tonight,’ he said. ‘I figured there might be trouble. You were so long inside I went round in back and drove your heap out.’

He grinned suddenly, answering my unspoken question. ‘I got a set of keys that operate most ignitions. I find it useful.’

‘Why did you follow me?’ I said.

‘Just a hunch,’ said Bishop. ‘I get them sometimes.’

I shaved round behind a fruit truck and waited for him to go on.

‘So I wait in the alley and then I hear shots. Presently someone lights out down the fire escape, going pretty fast.’

‘You didn’t try to stop him?’ I asked.

Bishop’s face was momentarily in shadow as he answered.

‘I don’t get paid for to get myself killed,’ he said sourly. ‘He was a big guy, over six feet, dressed in a dark sweater, dark trousers and sneakers. He looked like a professional. I let him go.’

‘Then why the heroic stuff when I came down?’ I said.

Bishop stammered as he answered. ‘I figured it would be you. I was trying to get hold of your arm to tell you it was me when the side of the alley fell on me.’

I grinned. ‘Well, thanks, anyway, Bishop,’ I said. ‘It seems I owe you something after all.’

I could see him contorting his face in the light of a passing drug-store.

‘I told you we’d make a swell team,’ he said.

‘Well, don’t press your luck too far,’ I told him. ‘Things are going to get rougher from here on in.

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